


Aggressively Mediocre

by TheAndromedaRecord



Series: free verse [1]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Found Poetry, M/M, Martin's poetry about jon, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-24 15:48:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21800443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAndromedaRecord/pseuds/TheAndromedaRecord
Summary: I have no scars, I am not markedYou were marked by somethingI want to touch each mark until they belong to meUntil you no longer flinch from your own handsMartin has a few verses scribbled in his journal.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Series: free verse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1572904
Comments: 30
Kudos: 138





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so i assume my style isn't anything like keats (i've never read him) but. enjoy

Flies by Martin K. Blackwood

If you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar, then I am not a fly  
Because your vinegar has caught me  
I am ensnared beyond what any honey would entice  
Spurning sweetness for bitter drops  
Though honey does not catch me, I ache for it  
I’ve almost forgotten that slow sweetness on the tip of my tongue

If you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar, then you are not a fly  
Because my honey has not caught you  
Some honey from the words I bring you  
Some in the tea I bring you  
And you make a face like you just drank vinegar  
Maybe you would find vinegar sweet  
But I have none for you  
I search my mouth, my tongue, for the vinegar that may ensnare you  
All I find is honey  
All anyone finds is honey

=

Two Weeks by Martin K. Blackwood

I spent two weeks away from you  
Your voice echoed in my ears by the second day  
I tasted your vinegar in my mouth  
In the absence of your rejoinders

=

The Cot by Martin K. Blackwood

My back hurts from sleeping on a cot  
And I awake with the unfamiliar buzz  
It’s drowned out by the buzz in my ears and the pounding of my heart  
Your face when you offered the bed to me  
There was almost honey in your eyes

I go back to sleep in the cot  
Foolish promises borne to my dreams on duplicitous wings  
Foolish hopes drowning in a river of vinegar

=

After by Martin K. Blackwood

Your body is like a ship to you  
Nothing more than a ferry  
I want to fill your sails with wind

Your hands are screwdrivers to you  
Tools to wield  
And then they are cast aside, a nuisance  
I want to hold them for you

Your skin is dry and cracked  
As if, to you, it is the lid of a tupperware  
To keep the insides inside

You flinch from the thousand halos set into the mahogany of your skin  
They are a nuisance, I see  
They glow to me  
A thousand halos, branding you holy  
A beacon, a lighthouse for my own ship  
They must be raised above your flesh  
They must be smooth like precious gold  
I want to find out

My freckles are stars, some said, long ago  
Now they are like misprints on newspaper  
You don’t wonder how I feel about them, though  
Nor do you trace them with your eyes

I have no scars, I am not marked  
You were marked by something  
I want to touch each mark until they belong to me  
Until you no longer flinch from your own hands

=

Paranoia by Martin K. Blackwood

A bird tries to claw its way from my ribcage  
It sings each time I put on a kettle  
It scratches while I make tea  
It screams and beats its wings in time with the flickering of your eyes

There is a tiger behind my eyes  
That bites when you whisper to your tape recorder  
That claws when I find you asleep at your desk  
That purrs when I tuck a blanket around your shoulders

=

Gunshot by Martin K. Blackwood

I love him like a heart attack, because it didn’t come on all of a sudden  
It started with a lifetime of bad decisions, then there was an ache in my chest  
And then the moment when the blood burst from my heart  
I trust him like a blind skydive  
Nothing to hold onto but desperate hope  
And the wind rushes past me as I scream into it  
It doesn’t listen. It never listens  
Love is not red, I know that now  
Love is not the color of blood  
Love is what I feel in spite of that blood  
Love is a bastion that waves of crimson cannot crumble  
Love is the color of honey  
Honey is the same color as apple cider vinegar

=

Before the Unknown by Martin K. Blackwood

I am 6 foot 4 inches  
I stand out like a pillar in any crowd, and I am the last person noticed in any crowd  
When you look at a web, you do not always see the spider at the center

I am 6 foot 4 inches  
I make an excellent shield  
I will always be a shield, protecting him  
I will block out the light so the eyes cannot see

I do not need a flame to light a fire  
There’s a campfire in my chest, and I don’t know how long it’s been there  
Stoked by insults and manipulations and red, red blood  
I try to extinguish it  
And the smoke chokes me

=

Safe by Martin K. Blackwood

The mind is not a safe. My mind is not a safe  
My mind is wet tissue paper  
My mind takes intrusion like an old friend  
He shoved a fist behind my eyes and pulled out everything that kept me together  
He stabbed me with a scalpel then killed me with a sword

All it takes is truth to tear me apart  
All it takes is vinegar to make me dance  
All it takes is vinegar to make me care

I didn’t tell anyone  
Disclosure is what feeds this place  
I stitch my own wounds  
(I am used to the punctures)

=

Gone by Martin K. Blackwood

Flickering eyes are not life  
Your skin is cold like a winter beach  
And my stomach rocks like I’m at sea  
You are beyond me now  
They all are  
Memories of nights out drinking burn my tongue  
Fragments of faces I thought I knew won’t leave my eyes  
A mother’s gaze turned cruel, not even my memories of her sacred  
Your scars are like the halos of a saint  
Saints are only saints after they’re martyred  
Tears seem useless now—I taste a different saltwater  
I cannot be a shield if I show cracks  
So I let the fog embrace me, because there is nothing outside of it for me  
Your eyes do not open to look on me with disdain  
Vinegar does not drip from your closed, unbreathing mouth  
And I am out of honey  
I threw it into the sea when you threw yourself into the fire

=

Awakened by Martin K. Blackwood

My mouth would taste of vinegar, if I could taste at all  
I spit it at you like snake’s venom, so you don’t come close enough to be bitten  
My pen is heavy  
As if it is full of honey  
It makes sense that honey would reject me now

=

Seen by Martin K. Blackwood

I’d been wondering how your scars would feel  
Turns out they’re as warm as the rest of your hands  
As the rest of you  
It burns, and the campfire in my chest starts smoldering  
I am known  
I am seen  
I am loved

You take my hand, and I am loved  
I am not a fly, and you are not a spider  
(you hate spiders)  
Nor have you set out honey for me

Your lips brush mine  
They taste  
Not like honey  
Not like vinegar

They taste like you

=

Good Cows by Martin K. Blackwood

The cows are set out to pasture  
Their hair falls in their eyes  
The green of the grass is like an emerald  
They are copper against it  
And the jewelry is complete with a turquoise sky  
I think I could be happy here


	2. Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another poem from Scotland

“I’m a monster,” you whispered to me one night in our bed  
“A creature of the night who feeds on fear”  
Then you kissed me as if to erase what you had said  
As if to take it back, as if I didn’t see your tears  
I looked at you, later, in the morning as you slept  
Trying to see what had prompted that confession  
Was there some dark secret that you’d kept?  
But I saw no fear and felt only affection  
Monsters are ugly, with waxen skin and sharp fingertips  
Look at them and you can only scream  
I look at you, and nectar falls from my lips  
Your beauty follows me to every dream  
Monsters have twisted tongues and just tell lies  
They smile and use me only for their gain  
But you search for truth with lightning in your eyes  
And let me plumb the depths of all your pain  
Monsters do not hold me when I wake screaming  
Or make coffee that turns out a bit too sweet  
They don’t guide me to the pastures, bright eyes gleaming  
As we find another cow to meet  
You say your scars are a demonstration  
The mark of things that cut you to the bone  
And so I kiss your scars with adoration  
Marking you to claim you as my own  
This thing does not belong to prying eyes  
Ours is the embrace we share at night  
No one gets to watch as we watch the sunrise  
I watch the way your eyes catch the light

I love you in every way that matters  
And in a few more ways that do not  
I love you as the world around us shatters  
I love you as the world turns to rot

**Author's Note:**

> im ceaselesslywatched on tumblr


End file.
